Maisey Yates - Avenge Me

“Be sure,” he said. “I am short on self-control tonight, if what I’ve said to you here wasn’t enough of an indicator. I don’t want to hurt you. But once we’re in the hotel room? I’m in charge. I will have what I want. So while we’re out here, you have the chance to tell me you don’t want that. If you want a sweet night of making love, then, darling, you need to find another man. That’s not what I want tonight. I don’t want to hold you, and go slow and tender. Tonight? I want you hard. I want you fast. I want you every time I ask. I want you on your knees. Tonight, you’re mine. If that’s not what you want? Get another guy to go home with you. You won’t have any trouble finding one. If that’s okay with you...don’t act like you weren’t warned.”

“You’re in charge?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

“Yes.”

“You’ll tell me what to do?” she asked, the black in her eyes expanding, the blue turning to a little sliver of color.

“Yes. Because once we’re in that suite, you’re mine.” He’d never said things like this to a woman in his life. He was polite. Courteous. Respectful.

Never once had he given in to that desire to ask a woman to get on her knees in front of him and do what she was told.

Never once had he spoken with such absolute honesty about what he wanted. Because he’d never been this honest with himself about what he wanted. Because he spent his life in denial of those ugly things, the twisted shadows in his soul, the dirty blood that he couldn’t escape.

“Then let’s go,” she said.

“This is what you want?”

“Do I have to say it again?”

“Do I have to tell you what I want again?”

“Only if you want me to push you up against the wall and have you here and now,” she said. “Because I’ve never had a man say anything like that to me before, and I have to tell you, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Then I suppose we better get to our room.”

She swallowed hard, the motion of her throat fascinating. He wanted to press his lips to it. He wanted to scrape her skin with his teeth and listen to the sound she would make.

He wanted to feel her shiver beneath his touch.

“Yes,” he said again. “We need to go. Now.”

“You going to call us a car?”

“I have a car.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, a driver.”

“That makes more sense. Kind of.”

He held his hand out and she took it, delicate fingers curling around his. “I assume you want to get out without being seen?”

“I’d rather not parade back through the ballroom, now that you mention it.”

“You don’t want to advertise that you’re leaving with me?”

“Not so much. Can we keep it clandestine? That’s pretty sexy, really.”

“You’re ashamed,” he said.

A slash of color faded into her cheeks. “Maybe a little.”

“Because you want me so much.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s bad to you, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said. “I think having sex with a stranger is pretty bad.”

“But you sort of like the idea of being a bad girl, don’t you?”

The color in her cheeks deepened. “Seriously, let’s go.”

“We’re going to have fun,” he said, tugging her down the empty hall. Fun was the wrong word for it, though. He could already sense that.

But it would be a release.

And he needed one. More than he’d realized.

When they got into the elevator and the doors closed, he felt the tension wrap around them like a cloak. Thick and heavy. He thought it might suffocate him. He could have her. Push the stop button and push her against the wall. Work it out in five minutes. Take the edge off the intense need.

But it wasn’t what he wanted. Not really.

He wanted to make them both wait.

Wanted to have her to himself. A whole night. A night to play with his demons instead of shoving them down deep. He would feel worse if he didn’t get the sense that she was doing the same. That she was about to perform an exorcism, using his body as holy water.

That suited him just fine.

But the wait didn’t.

“These elevators are effing slow,” she said, letting out a long breath as a five flashed across the light board at the top of the wall.

“They are a bit. I hadn’t noticed until now.”

“Me either. They seemed normal until tonight.”

Four, three, two, L. Thank God.

The doors opened and he walked out ahead of her. He didn’t touch her. Not again. Because it would be too tempting. It would be too much. He was on the edge as it was, and one more brush of her soft skin on his and he would lose it completely.

He picked up his phone. “Car. Up front. Now.”

The lobby doors opened just as his black town car pulled up to the front of the building.

He opened the door and waited. “Get in,” he said when she approached and paused.

She obeyed, lowering her head, the lights from the building shimmering over that hair, still contained in the tight bun. Heat burst through him, starting in his gut and spreading outward, pooling in his groin.

He got in and closed the door. “The Black Book Hotel,” he said to his driver before leaning back in the seat and pressing a button that put up a black divider between them and the man in front.

They hadn’t exchanged names. And that suited him just fine. He didn’t need a name to know that tonight she was his. Though, she might feel differently.

“Did you want to exchange names?” he asked, not sure, if she did, if he would be honest or not.

“I sort of like it like this.”

“Do you?”

“Not being me for the night? It works.”

He’d been right about the demons. Maybe she had a husband or boyfriend. Or it was related to what she felt she owed Jason. He didn’t care. Didn’t care if she loved someone else, as long as tonight, she didn’t think of anyone else.

None of that would come between them tonight. Nothing existed tonight but the fantasy. But a few blessed moments of feeling like there was something in his life that wasn’t beyond him.

“I’m going to kiss you again,” he said. “Come here.”

She was across the car from him, her seat belt buckled. She pressed the button slowly and then put her hands on the seat, crawling to him slowly, on her hands and knees.

Everything in him tightened to the point where he thought he might break. It was the practical way to move across the car; he knew that. But there was something about it that grabbed him by the throat and shook him hard.

His eyes dropped to her breasts, emphasized by the motion, pale and round, spilling over the top of her black dress. Her red lips were parted slightly and it was so easy to imagine them wrapped around his cock. And her hair loose, wrapped around his hand...

Not yet.

He captured her face and leaned in, kissing her firmly, his tongue sliding along the seam of her mouth, delving in deeply when she parted for him. A muffled sound escaped her and he captured it, kissing her harder.

Lust, need, fired through him. All heat and desire, the kind he’d never known had existed before. He’d tasted it. On the edge of dreams, with fantasy women, when he woke up, sweaty and wrapped in his sheets, slick with shame and release.

But never in reality. Because he’d always held a part of himself back. And he’d imagined he always would.

Not tonight.

He kept kissing her, their bodies separate, need roaring through him. He wanted to tug her up against him, to feel those delicious curves pressed against his body, but he was determined to wait.

Determined to prolong the torture because there was something about it—this lust that bordered on pain—that appealed to him in a way that was beyond description. Beyond comprehension.